The Tangled Mist
by TheFuzzyKiwiFruit
Summary: Harry Potter's story is over and done with, but there is another tale that occurred. For most of her life, Winter has been spoiled by Dumbledore. When she begins her first year at Hogwarts, however, she will learn that things won't always go in her favor and that independence will be vital if she wants to survive the oncoming threat of Voldemort.
1. Preface

_A/N: Hello! This story was originally the work of ThePeacockFeather, but I have adopted it. This IS a Voldemort's daughter OC story, which should be interesting because I've heard that this is one of the most cliché Harry Potter fan fiction plots out there. My goal is to perfect character creation and development, so any advise here would be much appreciated. I believe the first several chapters are the work of ThePeacockFeather, so I cannot take credit for them, but I'll let you know when I start writing the chapters. I have also revised a little bit of the original work to make it smoother and to make the OC a tiny bit better._

_Disclaimers: I don't own Harry Potter, although if I did, Voldemort's daughter would really exist, and fans won't have to make up trashy OCs on the internet to make up for it._

_Now that that's out of the way, enjoy the story ~_

* * *

_Preface: The Prophecy_

Prophecies are never clear. Albus Dumbledore has lived long and has experienced enough to know that. He knew from the moment Sybill Trelawney spoke to him that night in the attic of the Hog's Head bar that he had just heard a message from Fate itself.

Of course, the Hog's Head was not a good place to have such an important event. Dumbledore would have been a fool to not suspect that someone was eavesdropping on him and Sybill.

Not wanting to waste any precious time, Dumbledore had hurried out of the Hog's Head, and his first destination was the Ministry of Magic. The old wizard didn't bother to try and remember the Prophecy because he knew that when a prophecy is meant to be heard by someone, that person would have the ability to recall it perfectly.

The Ministry of Magic was headed by a wise and fair Minister at that time. Taking Dumbledore's account seriously, he had ordered a record of the Prophecy be built in the shape of a small sphere of magical materials and stored deep in the chambers of the Department of Mysteries.

At about this time, Dumbledore's suspicions about an eavesdropper at the Hog's Head were confirmed.

Miles from the Ministry of Magic, a barman from the Hog's Head had heard part of the Prophecy, a small part in the beginning of the prediction that spoke of a boy that is to be born at the end of the month of July to parents who have escaped the Dark Lord thrice. The barman, a follower of this Dark Lord, had immediately reported back to his master.

Although the barman was not able to tell the Dark Lord the entire Prophecy, it was enough to frighten him very much. The Dark Lord, his name was Lord Voldemort, had understood enough of the Prophecy to piece together the fact that a wizard who will have the power to defeat him will be born very soon.

And so, Lord Voldemort set out to destroy this wizard that would one day be his downfall. He searched far and wide for parents that have escaped him three times.

After over a year of searching, Lord Voldemort was able to locate the home of Lily and James Potter and their son who was barely a year old, Harry, born on July 31.

It was the night of Halloween when Voldemort stormed into the cottage of the Potter family, determined to kill the only threat to his existence. With one curse, the Dark Lord killed James Potter instantly and stepped over his body to get to Lily who was desperately begging for Voldemort to spare Harry.

Voldemort raised his wand again and struck her down with the same curse he had used on her husband. At last there was no one standing in the Dark Lord's way. He approached the cradle in which little Harry stood, staring at Lily Potter's motionless body.

The wizard did not hesitate at all as he raised his wand one last time, aiming the Killing Curse directly at Harry's forehead.

They say that your loved ones never truly leave you. That was the case for Harry. He should have fallen quite easily to Lord Voldemort's curse; however his mother's spirit stayed in the room with him after she died. Lily's soul lingered with her son and protected him from the Killing Curse.

Before Voldemort knew what was happening, his spell had turned on him. With a flash of blinding green light, Harry Potter gained the scar on his forehead that would make him famous one day, and Lord Voldemort was left barely alive, shriveled up on the floor in front of Harry's cradle.

And so Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard of all time, fled the cottage of the Potters and was never seen again.

Remember when I said that Lord Voldemort never heard the whole Prophecy? Well, this is when that becomes important.

At the end of Sybill Trelawney's prediction, there was a single phrase that mentioned me, Winter Riddle, the child of Voldemort and the veela Arabela. Of course, the Prophecy never actually used my name or told of my parentage, but Dumbledore was smart enough to figure out that it was about me.

That is why the old wizard rescued me from my fate when I was just over a year old.

My mother was a smart and understanding woman. She handed me over to Dumbledore without hesitation for she had noticed the frightening changes that had been taking over Tom Riddle. My mother also understood that if the Prophecy concerns me, my father would not hesitate to strike me down the same way he murdered the Potters.

Afterwards, Dumbledore took me to a very safe place, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There, he watched over me as if I were his own granddaughter, and that is what I believed for a long time until I was fifteen. But that is another story, and we mustn't get too ahead of ourselves.

This story that you are reading at the moment began when I was eleven years old and attending my first year of official magic education.

At Hogwarts, a student attends school for seven years beginning from the year they turn eleven. My seven school years have been most intriguing, at least compared to your humble Muggles lives.

This little story is only about my first year. I do not wish to tell you too much before I decide that you can be trusted to read my more personal tales which lie mostly in my later years.

Now proceed, dear Muggle reader, and satisfy your hunger for more Harry Potter literature.

_-Winter Riddle _


	2. Winter at the Leaky Cauldron

*Chapter One: Winter and the Leaky Cauldron*

_Dear Diary,_

_Professor Dumbledore told me that he is going to take me to Diagon Alley today to get my supplies for school. I haven't been to Diagon Alley in so long; I've almost forgotten what it looks like! I simply cannot wait to receive my wand and spell books. Professor Dumbledore was very angry with me when I had picked up his wand and waved it around a few times a couple of weeks ago. I feel bad to have made him so uncomfortable. He told me that wands are not toys and that I must be properly educated before using one so casually._

_This morning, Professor Flitwick was telling me about Harry Potter again. I think that I have written about him before. It is now official that he would be attending Hogwarts this year. Everyone seems to be happy about it so I suppose I should be too. The only person who seems to be unaffected by the idea of Harry Potter was Professor Trelawney. Then again… she's not exactly the brightest spark in the night, always wandering around with this misty look in her eyes. I do worry about her sometimes. _

_I've noticed that Professor Snape always seems to stiffen when I, or anyone else, mention the name Harry Potter. I can tell that he is definitely alert to it, but not in a positive way like every other teacher here at Hogwarts. About a month ago, I tried to slowly approach the topic while I was helping him sort the frog eyeballs used in Potions class, but the result made me regret ever bringing the subject up. Professor Snape had gone quiet, looking a bit gloomy and bitter. And the rest of our time together was awkwardly silent. After that horrible experience, I have learned to not bring up Harry Potter in front of Professor Snape. _

_From what I have read about in the most recent edition of _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot, courtesy of the Hogwarts library, I've found that Harry Potter is only a few months younger than me. He would have turned eleven just two weeks ago. And apparently he lives with Muggles. I had frowned at this. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Muggles, but shouldn't such a famous figure in magical history at least live with magical people? There are some things in this world I just can't figure out…_

_It is nearly 10:00 now. Professor Dumbledore should be taking me to Diagon Alley at 10:20. I ought to get dressed. I've spent the entire morning wandering around the castle in my nightgown. Professor McGonagall gave me a disapproving look at breakfast this morning when I skipped into the Great Hall wearing only my owl shaped slippers and a long, silky, cerulean nightdress. I really can't understand what harm it does to wear your nightie to breakfast, but if Professor McGonagall doesn't like it, I was taught to respect her opinion and try my best not to do it again, even though I heard Professor Flitwick and Sprout say that it was quite adorable. Professor Dumbledore was trying to hide it, but I could tell he was trying very hard not to smile._

_I really should stop writing now. Perhaps when I come back from Diagon Alley, I'll start again._

_-Winter _

Winter looked up from her parchment diary and carefully placed her Self-Inking eagle feather quill upon her bedside table beside her box of Muggle Girl Scout Cookies that she had gotten from the Muggle Studies classroom. She glanced over the journal entry, smiling in satisfaction at her own good penmanship. Raising the diary to her face, she began blowing air on the writing, helping the ink to dry.

Once the pages were no longer wet, Winter carefully closed the leather covered diary and slid it under a large, fluffy pillow at the head of the canopied bed she laid on.

Bouncing out of the bed, Winter's feet searched the hard wooden floor for her slippers.

Her room was circular and spacious thanks to the high ceiling. It was also bright all the time because of the two giant windows, one facing east and the other facing the west. There was a soft round rug in from of Winter's princess-like bed. On that rug was a large grey wolf with glowing yellow eyes. He watched Winter's every move as the girl found her slippers and quickly slipped them on.

Winter skipped away from her bed, over the wolf, and to the other end of the room where a shiny wooden dresser sat accompanied with a matching wardrobe. She opened the beautifully carved doors and stepped inside.

The wardrobe looked very small on the outside but was much bigger once someone entered it.

"Hmm…" Winter mused thoughtfully as she flipped through the many dresses and coats that were stored in the wardrobe. Her alert eyes locked on a simple, crispy green sundress.

Moments later, Winter emerged from the wardrobe wearing the dress and a little daisy shaped clip in her curly, shoulder length, ebony black hair. "Well?" she asked the wolf that sat on her rug. "Do you like it, Huntington?"

The wolf, whose name was Huntington, simply sniffed the skirts of the dress and quickly lost interest. He patiently planted his hind quarters on the rug again and began playing with a ball of fuzz on the floor.

Winter didn't seem to care about the wolf's lack of attention to her dress. She happily walked to a full-body mirror that sat beside the wardrobe and took a good look at herself. "Mirror, mirror, what is your opinion?" she spoke to the glass expectantly.

Suddenly, her reflection began moving and speaking on its own. It tapped its chin thoughtfully, looking Winter up and down. "Very nice, Winter, the green goes wonderfully with your eyes. However, that pendant doesn't look very good…" she pointed at a small, mist filled orb attached to a silver string around the girl's neck.

Winter frowned at her reflection with hurt. "You know I'm not taking that off," she said and fingered the orb carefully. The color changing mist inside moved and churned like silk. "Professor Dumbledore gave it to me." Winter continued. "He told me to try my best to keep it on at all times, and I will obey him. And besides, I think it is very beautiful."

The reflection snorted at Winter's excuse. "Well, if you weren't going to take my advice, why did you summon me in the first place?" it replied hotly. "I'm a magic mirror, and I am always correct. I remember a time when a queen used to consult me every day, 'Who is the fairest in the land?' and I always gave the truthful, correct answer. Although it did lead to the tragic death of a certain princess… Perhaps the truth isn't always safe…"

Winter sighed as her mirror began murmuring to itself about its past. She glanced at the large hourglass that stood on her bedside table, flowing glittering gold sand, and decided that she was already late to go to Diagon Alley. Winter whistled for her pet, "Huntington, come!"

The big wolf gracefully got up from its sitting position and trotted over to its mistress.

Winter gave the wolf an affectionate scratch behind the ear before exiting her room with Huntington leading the way, sniffing curiously at every step of the long spiral staircase that led down from Winter's room to the castle's main corridors and chambers.

Torches with blue fire in them lit the way down the steps. Winter and Huntington soon arrived at a heavy wooden door with a worn brass handle. With much effort, the girl turned the handle and pushed with all her might to get the door to swing open slowly.

She poked her head out from behind the door to look into the hallway that the door had opened to. At first, Winter saw no one. A second later, however, she noticed a shape turning the corner at the end of the wide corridor.

It was small and furry with red eyes like lasers. Winter soon recognized it as Mrs. Norris, the cat of the caretaker Mr. Filch. The feline was leisurely strolling around, but immediately froze when it saw Winter and her pet.

Winter bent down and patted Huntington's back as the wolf tensed. She could hear the low growl that came from the back of its throat. The duo had never liked Mrs. Norris. Winter found the cat to be overly suspicious of every living thing it sees.

The cat always showed up to annoy Huntington by staring at the wolf with suspecting crimson eyes. Being a creature with much pride, Huntington did not enjoy this at all.

Mrs. Norris let out a menacing hiss in reply to the wolf's growl.

Winter jerked Huntington's fur a little. "Huntington, let's go. Leave Mrs. Norris alone." Although she wasn't very fond of the cat, Winter didn't want any of the animals to get hurt in a fight. She knew that Mrs. Norris was a coward without Mr. Filch to protect it. As long as Huntington doesn't attack, the cat shouldn't go around looking for a fight.

With much coaxing from Winter, the wolf turned away from Mrs. Norris and followed its mistress in the opposite direction, away from the cat.

It was very quiet as they made their way through around many corners and up and down sets of stairs to reach the Headmaster's office. Most of the teachers were shut in their classrooms, possibly writing down lesson plans for the coming school year, Winter thought.

She passed the Great Hall in which the four House tables stood. Although they haven't been used all summer, no dust had gathered, and the silver plates were as tidy and shiny as ever. Jogging up a short spiral staircase, she reached another long corridor. Winter easily navigated the maze-like turns and twists of the castle's ancient halls and came to a large gargoyle statue.

The statue was alive and searching up and down the passageway for any sign of intruders. It noticed Winter approaching. "Password?" it asked the girl when she stood in front of it.

"Chocolate Frogs," Winter replied.

The gargoyle statue leapt aside, revealing yet another narrow spiral staircase that led up. "Dumbledore should really change that password," it sniffed as Winter and Huntington hurried past it. "It's been 'Chocolate Frogs' for almost two months now."

Winter and Huntington ran up the stairs, torches with gold flames lit their way. At the top of the steps was a big brass door. Winter reached up a hand to civilly knock on the door to Professor Dumbledore's office.

But before her knuckles made contact with the brass, the door flew open and there stood the almighty Albus Dumbledore in his midnight blue robes, pointed wizard hat, and half-moon spectacles. Being a tall man, he had to look down to see the petite Winter.

"Winter," he said, looking down at her with kind eyes. "I've been waiting for you to come and find me. I believe I promised a trip to Diagon Alley?"

Winter smiled and bowed to Dumbledore, "Professor, I hope I am not intruding on anything important," she spoke in a polite, calm voice.

"Not at all," said Dumbledore. "Let us not waste time standing here. I think that it would be best to Apparate to the Leaky Cauldron. Come, Winter."

Winter followed Dumbledore into his office. The room was filled with curious silver instruments, and large desk was at the center, littered with parchment. There were paintings all along the walls of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts. The people in the paintings were alive, chatting with each other or sleeping with their mouth halfway open and a drop of drool falling down their chin.

Winter bowed respectfully to every one of the paintings before catching up to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had taken out his wand, a strange one with a tiny knob every few centimeters. He motioned for Winter to join him and arched an eyebrow when he noticed her leading Huntington into the room as well. "You wish to bring him?"

"Yes, Professor," the girl replied. "I think that Huntington needs his exercise. It's been a long time since he's gone for a good stroll outside of the school grounds."

Dumbledore nodded, understanding this. He held out his arm to Winter. "Hold on tightly," he cautioned after Winter had latched herself onto his sleeve.

Winter nodded eagerly, tightened her grip on Dumbledore's arm, and squeezed Huntington closer to her side to ensure that the wolf would not be left behind.

Dumbledore waved his wand with little effort, and Winter braced herself.

There was a sudden pop as they warped away from the Headmaster's office. Winter could feel the world spinning around them even though it was very dark. There was a large amount of pressure on her body, and she felt like her eyes were being pushed to the back of their sockets and eardrums deeper into her ear. Wind whipped at her hair, and for a moment, the girl worried that her hairclip might be blown off. The sensation of Apparating wasn't a comfortable one. Just as Winter thought that she might throw up, the feeling of gone. There was another pop, and their feet hit the solid stone road in front of a large, shabby pub.

A blue sign dangled from a chain read _The Leaky Cauldron._ A Muggle bookstore was open on the pub's right while a Muggle music store stood to its left. Winter instinctively checked to make sure that Huntington had not been lost along the Apparation journey or splinched.

The wolf was still standing beside the girl, looking a little bit queasy but was otherwise perfectly fine with all of its body parts safely attached.

Winter patted Huntington comfortingly on its head. "Good boy," she whispered.

Dumbledore had already begun making his way up to the narrow entrance way of the Leaky Cauldron.

Winter hurried after him with Huntington trailing behind her. They entered the pub and found it to be very full. Most of the tables and chairs were occupied by people who were reading the newspaper, drinking butterbeer, or having conversations in very loud voices.

The pub itself was brightly lit by fat candles on a heavy chandelier. A man stood at the ordering window at the back of the room, pleasantly pouring firewhiskey into two large mugs. His face lit up when he saw Dumbledore and Winter.

"Good day to you, Professor Dumbledore," He was quite old and had no hair on his walnut-like head. His sly appearance was not the most welcoming, but Winter liked him very much.

"Thank you, Tom," Dumbledore said with a small smile.

"Hello, Mr. Tom," Winter said politely. "You're looking very wonderful today."

Tom turned toward Winter and widened his eyes. "Is that you, Winter? Dear Merlin, you've grown since the last time I saw you… which was…?" he tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"Eight months ago, sir," Winter supplied. "Almost nine months now."

"Yes, yes, it's been far too long. What brings you and Professor Dumbledore to the Leaky Cauldron on this fine day?"

Winter was more than happy to tell him. "We're going to Diagon Alley, sir. I will be attending Hogwarts this year, and Professor Dumbledore has kindly offered to take me to buy a wand and the books I will need for school. Isn't that lovely of him?"

"Ah…" Tom grinned upon hearing this. "I remember my first year at Hogwarts like it was yesterday. I was sorted into Gryffindor House(1), you know. With that bright spirit of yours, Winter, I'm certain the Sorting Hat will put you in Gryffindor, too." He gave Winter a friendly wink.

"Thank you for your kind words, Mr. Tom," Winter said with gratitude. "I should be going now. Diagon Alley awaits."

"Of course, of course," Tom gave a wave to the courtyard at the back of the pub. "Please, go ahead."

Winter and Dumbledore stepped toward the door that led to the patio. The Headmaster had his wand raised again.

"Huntington!" Winter suddenly turned and hissed loudly.

The wolf, with no one paying attention to it, had wandered away from Winter and Dumbledore and begun bothering a squat little witch who was minding her own business, reading _The Daily Prophet._ Huntington sniffed aggressively at the witch's bright pink clothes and shoved its long snout down own of the pockets.

The witch was very awkwardly trying to shake the wolf off but not daring to make it angry. "Shoo! Go, you mutt!" she waved his rolled up newspaper at Huntington. "Go! Go away!"

Huntington had ignored her and continued to dig around in the lady's pockets, pulling out a shiny, expensive looking locket. With the accessory in its mouth, the wolf attempted to bring it to Winter, but the witch savagely lashed out and grabbed the chain of the locket, desperately trying to pull it back.

Before the Huntington and the witch could put up a real fight, Winter had noticed her pet's absence and hissed, "Huntington!"

Huntington dropped the locket reluctantly and cowered a little, doing a good job at looking innocent. It glanced over at Winter shamefully and slowly trotted back to the girl with its tail between its legs.

Winter hurried over to the woman Huntington had been disturbing. "I'm so sorry, miss. Please forgive Huntington's nosiness. He isn't usually like this!"

The witch had quickly stuffed her locket into the little purse she was holding. She wore a bright pink dress and a matching pink jacket over the dress. Even her purse was in a shade of magenta that matched her clothing. Her face was plump from what Winter could observe and she had smile crinkles.

Usually, Winter saw smile crinkles as the sign of a good and nice person who obviously smiled a lot. But with this witch, Winter noticed something malicious in her irises despite the small wrinkles at the corners of her beady black eyes that suggested otherwise.

The witch threw Huntington a look of pure loathe and a tiny bit of fear. She then made eye contact with Winter and smiled sweetly like everyone's favorite grandmother.

"Well then," she began quietly, almost at a pleasant whisper that harmonized with the forgiving expression on her face. "That was most unpleasant. You'd best keep that beast on a leash!"

Winter almost stumbled back and tripped over a chair. This lady's words surprised her. She, the lady, wore a mask of kindness and generosity on her face, but her words and tone were venomous. Winter could now understand why her, Winter's, Good-Person Radar hadn't gone off when she met the lady with smile crinkles.

"I…I – please forgive us," Winter bowed her head and tried to make Huntington do the same, but the wolf defiantly refused.

"Wait," the witch suddenly grabbed Winter's wrist and pulled her closer for examination.

Winter gasped, her eyes widened in fear. Her immediate react was to jerk away, but the witch had an iron grip.

The witch stared at Winter in a way that made the girl very uncomfortable. She, the witch, narrowed her eyes with hatred after a few seconds. "I thought so, you're a filthy little half – "

Dumbledore arrived at that moment, "I must ask you to kindly release Winter, Delores," he said calmly. "What Huntington did was perfectly normal of him. He is trained to find powerful magical objects, and your locket must have attracted his attention."

The witch's glance quickly shifted to Dumbledore and was filled with even more loathe than before. But she quickly recovered, plastering another fake smile across her face. "Oh, I'm sorry," she whispered innocently, letting go of Winter.

Winter, who was gingerly rubbing her wrist, looked up when she heard Dumbledore address the witch. "Your name is Delores?" she asked curiously. _Where have I heard that name before…?_

"Winter," Dumbledore said. "This is Delores Jane Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic."

A memory flashed before Winter's eyes. When she was nine years old, she had heard Dumbledore talking about an anti-mermaid campaign that was instigated by a person called Delores Umbridge. Thankfully, the Headmaster put a stop to it before it could take any real effect.

Umbridge continues to smile in a sweet manner, "Ah, Albus Dumbledore, it's been a long time, hasn't it?" Winter was certain that she, Umbridge, must still hold a grudge against Dumbledore for taking down her anti-mermaid movement before it even started.

"Winter and I are in a hurry, Delores," Dumbledore said. His tone did not contain any bitterness toward Umbridge. "We will be taking our leave now."

Winter followed Dumbledore away from the witch. She looked back at her once and saw Umbridge shoot Huntington a disgusted look. Winter frowned and bent down to rub the top of the wolf's head comfortingly. She knew at once that she did not like the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

_A/N: Well, this chapter wasn't mine, but I did some editing and revising to make it a bit better. Still, would you kindly leave a little review for me? I love reviews, even if they just say hello. And I really hope you all will give this story a chance, because I know Harry Potter fans are familiar with the cliché level of Voldemort's daughter stories. But I will do my very best to make this worth reading and different from the others. This is my challenge to myself, so please drop a little review. Support is what I need to get through this very, very large project. It's going to be a huge challenge to write a story for Winter for each Harry Potter book, but I am determined to do it. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Diagon Alley Shopping Spree

*Chapter Two: Diagon Alley Shopping Spree*

They exited the pub and into the courtyard which was surrounded by a tall brick wall. Dumbledore raised his wand and tapped a certain brick that could be found by counting three up and two across, three times.

The wall began vibrating, shaking dirt and tiny pieces of mortar off of the bricks. Then the wall neatly folded away revealing a spectacular sight.

Diagon Alley stretched head for as far as the eye could see. It was a long, narrow cobbled road that was packed with wizards and witches. Stores were open on both sides of the walkway. Winter saw groups of people huddle around the windows of some of the shops, admiring whatever new product that was being sold there. A few parents had to run to catch up to their excited children as they dove into the store that sold the best broomsticks in London. There was a quaint little ice cream shop on the left side of the street with people sitting under umbrellas and licking at their sundaes.

Winter looked back and saw that the brick wall had repaired itself, leaving no sign that it had been cracked open mere seconds ago.

In a busy place like Diagon Alley, the girl knew that she could easily get lost and must not leave Dumbledore's side. The nearest shop was Flourish & Blotts, identified by a gold sign hanging over the entrance way. Winter gently tugged on Dumbledore's sleeve to get the Headmaster's attention and pointed at the bookstore. "May I please buy my textbooks first, Professor?"

Dumbledore nodded and they both joined the traffic of shoppers walking up and down the street.

Winter felt eyes turn to stare at them. Or, more specifically, to stare at Professor Dumbledore. Winter looked up at the Headmaster to see if he noticed the strange looks they were receiving.

The old wizard looked perfectly at ease with a little smile gracing his lips.

Winter decided to follow his example. She held her head high and smile pleasantly at everyone they passed. As she walked, her hazel eyes scanned shop windows around her, and she noticed the pet shop where she had gotten Huntington almost two years ago. She smiled at the memory and looked down at the wolf that was trotting beside her. _He has grown so big,_ Winter thought fondly.

Sticking close to the Hogwarts Headmaster, the girl arrived at the entrance of Flourish & Blotts. She turned the knob and opened the door, politely allowing Dumbledore and Huntington to enter the shop first.

The shop was very much like the stereotypical bookstore. All, but one, of the four walls of the store were shelves stuffed with textbooks. There was even a section on a nearby shelf that held _The Invisible Book of Invisibility_ which appeared to be empty.

Winter's eyes had widened in horror when she saw a cage in the store window that held a dozen copies of _The Monster Book of Monsters._ She jumped away from the cage when one of the books tried to break out, snapping its covers violently. Winter nervously asked Dumbledore, "I'm not required to get _The Monster Book of Monsters_ this year, is that right, Professor?"

When Dumbledore shook his head, she let out a sigh of relief.

Dumbledore produced a roll of parchment from his sleeve and handed it to Winter. "These are the things you need for Hogwarts. Let us split up to look for them."

Winter took the list and glanced at it before setting off to look for _The Standard Book of Spells._

As Winter browsed the shelves carefully with Huntington sniffing curiously at Herbology books, another family had entered the shop. They appeared to be very confused and at the same time fascinated by everything around them. Winter assumed that they are probably a Muggle family that was fortunate enough to have a child blessed with magical talents.

There was a mother, a father, and a girl close to Winter's age with bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and a bossy sort of aura.

The father, obviously a Muggle, noticed the caged copies of _The Monster Book of Monsters _and very foolishly tried to stick his finger into the cage to see if the books were real.

"Stop!" Winter warned loudly, making the whole family jump.

The Muggle family looked at Winter strangely, possibly wondering who this girl with a wolf as a pet was.

"I wouldn't try to touch those again if I were you, sir," Winter continued to the father, trying to not let an awkward silence envelope them. "Those books are real and can seriously hurt you. I presume you are Muggles, yes? Do you need any help?"

The girl with bushy hair seemed a lot more at ease than her parents. She stepped toward Winter and held out her hand. "Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, and you are…?"

"Winter," Winter replied, and shook Hermione's hand. "And that is Huntington," she gestured to the wolf who was absently licking his paw. "Is this your first time in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, and I'm afraid we are very lost," Hermione's mother said. "We tried to get Hermione some robes, but the manager wouldn't take our money. She said something about going to a place called Gringotts…"

Winter piped up. "Are you still using Muggle currency?"

The Grangers looked at her in blank confusion.

"In the magical world, we use Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts," Winter tried her best to make sense in the face of a trio of Muggles. "There are 29 Knuts in a Sickle, 17 Sickles in a Galleon, which means that 493 Knuts are in a Galleon… I know, it's confusing, and Gringotts is a wizarding bank. You can trade your Muggle money for magical currency. The bank is a bit further up Diagon Alley and managed by goblins." – Mr. and Mrs. Granger's eyes widened in sheer horror at this – "But don't worry," Winter quickly recovered after noticing the shocked expressions on the Grangers' faces. "Goblins are very civilized, I assure you –"

Winter decided to just stop talking at this point. She expected the Grangers to take off down Diagon Alley, to the Leaky Cauldron, and back into the Muggle world, never to be seen again.

However, Hermione defiantly and stood her ground, looking very determined now. "Come on, Mom, Dad, let's go to Gringotts." She turned on her heels and began making her way out the door.

Her parents stared at her with bewilderment. "Hermione, why-"

"To trade our money for Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons, of course," the youngest Granger replied. "Otherwise, how will we buy my supplies for Hogwarts?"

Mr. and Mrs. Granger, clearly surprised that their daughter still wanted to attend Hogwarts, gawked at Hermione as she unwaveringly exited Flourish & Blotts and walked deeper into Diagon Alley where Gringotts Wizarding Bank stood in all its banking glory.

Winter became at ease when the Grangers were gone. The last thing she wanted to do was scare an entire Muggle family away from the wonderful magical world.

Shaking her head, she resumed looking for her own textbooks.

Moments later, Winter found Dumbledore, after picking up _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, A History of Magic, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, The Standard Book of Spells: Grade I, _and_ Magical Theory._ She had also found an enchanted book bag that can hold an infinite mass of books without taking up space of adding weight.

Dumbledore had managed to find _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, _and _Magical Drafts and Potions._

"Professor," Winter addressed Dumbledore as she, the Headmaster, and Huntington waited in line to pay for their purchase. "I met a Muggle family a few minutes ago." She explained to the Headmaster how the Grangers were in need of help and had gone to Gringotts after Winter tried to clarify about magical currency. "Do you think they'll be alright with the goblins?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a little in amusement. "Gringotts goblins offer only the best service, Winter. I don't think that Miss Hermione Granger will have a problem with them from what you've told me about her."

Winter held the large stack of textbooks while Dumbledore dug five Galleons, three Sickles, and ten Knuts from his money pouch and handed them to the store manager to pay for their items.

Then they took their leave from Flourish & Blotts, moving on to the shop directly beside the bookstore, a place called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Again, Winter hurried ahead and, being a polite girl, held the door open for the others before entering the shop herself.

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was a relatively large shop. Robes of all colors hung on racks in one large corner of the store. In another corner was a short stepstool with fabric, ribbons, and a measuring tape littered around it. Winter assumed that that was the place where Madam Malkin fits new costumers. Mirrors were scattered around the room, and a mannequin wearing beautiful silver robes stood on a pedestal like a centerpiece for the store.

A plump little lady, baring quite a resemblance to Delores Umbridge, appeared from behind a clothes rack. She wore clothes of mauve, thin glasses, and very friendly smile. "Come in, come in! Is that you, Dumbledore?"

"Good day, madam," Dumbledore bowed his head to her.

Winter, who was meeting Madam Malkin for the first time, was taught to be courteous and mannerly when greeting new people. She smiled cordially at Malkin, "It is a joy to meet you, ma'am. My name is Winter. Perhaps you can help me find a comfortable robe for Hogwarts? Preferably light-weight and not too tight."

Malkin appeared to be pleased with the girl's manners. "The pleasure is all mine, Winter. Professor Dumbledore has told me about you, you know. Yes, polite, intelligent, and just _adorable!_"

Winter beamed at Malkin's compliments, though she knew that they didn't really mean anything. She had figured out that half of what grown-ups said to her was a total lie. After always being in the company of Dumbledore in public for so many years, Winter had realized that most people who compliment her are only doing it so that they make a good impression in front of the Headmaster. However, she was taught to accept admiring comments graciously, so she simply thanked the seamstress for her words.

"Well then, come on, dearie," Malkin said, holding a hand to the girl. "Let's see what I can get for you. Yes, that's it, step onto this stool…" she helped her onto the stepstool. "That's it, now spread your arms out and hold still for a moment.

Winter stood there with her arms held out like wings as she watched her pick up a measuring tape.

Malkin carefully measured Winter's arms and height, muttering numbers to herself after every dimension. After a moment or two, the robe dealer retreated to the clothes racks, telling Winter, "You wait here for a minute, I'll be right back with your robes."

While she was gone, Winter sat down on the stool and watched the people pass in the streets. Huntington waltzed up to her and shoved his head under the girl's hand. Then something struck Winter's mind. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes?"

"Harry Potter," she began. "Is he here today? It would be so exciting to meet him! Have you sent him his Hogwarts letter yet? Are you sure his Muggle family would bring him here to Diagon Alley?"

Dumbledore was unfazed by Winter's sudden topic of conversation. "Yes, I have sent him his letter. Actually, he was here two weeks ago with Hagrid."

"What!?" Winter cried in sheer astonishment. "Hagrid's already met him? Why didn't you tell me before; I would have liked to go with Hagrid to shop for Harry Potter..." She appeared genuinely upset by this, but before she could say more on the matter, a curious thought struck her.  
Professor Dumbledore, why did Hagrid have to take Harry Potter shopping? Does he not have anyone to take him?"

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Harry's Muggle family were having some difficulties deciding whether they wanted Harry to attend Hogwarts or not, so I sent Hagrid to help them make the choice. And I must say, our gamekeeper did a splendid job."

Winter spotted a glint of amusement in his eyes again. She smiled, knowing that this kind man was her guardian. "What House do you think Harry Potter will be sorted into?"

Dumbledore thought about this for a few seconds. "My best guess would be Gryffindor as that was the House of both of his parents, but one cannot tell. The Sorting Hat has a funny way of looking at things."

Winter hesitated before cautiously asking her next question, "And me? What House do you think _I'm_ fit for?"

For a second, Winter saw a flash of panic in Dumbledore's kind blue eyes, but the Headmaster was very quick to hide it. "That is an excellent question, Winter," he spoke carefully. "Like Tom had said, you would get along very well with Gryffindor, I suppose. However, - "

"Here you are, dearie," Madam Malkin had returned with four black robes draped over her arm, interrupting what the Headmaster was planning to say. "Come now, try these on," she motioned Winter back onto the stepstool and helped her put on the first robe.

The black fabric covered up Winter's sundress and most of her body, falling to the floor even though the girl was standing on an eight inch tall stool. Winter looked tiny in the oversized robe.

Madam Malkin stepped back to admire her choice, but noticed the size problem too. "Don't worry, honey," she said, taking back the first robe and picking up another, a few sizes smaller this time. "Try on this one, will you?"

Winter nodded and slid it on. She beamed when she saw that the robe fitted her very well. Turning to get a good look at herself in one of the mirrors, she posed like a model. "I like it," she said finally, after admiring herself for a few seconds.

But Madam Malkin wasn't done yet. She grabbed a pointy hat from a nearby hat stand and placed it on top of Winter's head. "There, you look lovely! Now for the cloak…"

Winter sagged down as a heavy cloak with silver fastenings was dropped onto her thin shoulders.

"That should keep you warm in the cold months," Madam Malkin finally stepped back from the girl, satisfied at last.

After Dumbledore paid for the three work robes that were required for Hogwarts, the winter cloak, a pair of dragon skin gloves, and the signature pointy hat, they left the robe shop, waving good-bye to Madam Malkin and going back into the crowded street.

The next store down was an owl emporium which Winter skipped. She had no intentions on getting another animal. Huntington would get jealous, she thought with an amused smile.

Next was Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment where Dumbledore bought Winter a shiny silver telescope. Then they arrived at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary and purchased the set of brass scales and the set of vials that were required according to the Hogwarts supply list. In these two shops, Winter saw many wizarding families and their children buying things for school.

It was 1:00 p.m. by the time they got to the end of Diagon Alley. After a quick lunch at a café, Winter excitedly skipped up to the doorsteps of the narrow, shabby Ollivanders wand store, eager to purchase her first wand, while Dumbledore decided to stay outside with Huntington as to not interfere with the wand choosing process.

Upon entering Ollivanders, Winter saw stacks and stacks of flat narrow boxes. The boxes were dusty as if they hadn't been handled in ages, but inside them Winter knew there were shiny, beautifully handcrafted wands.

A pale eyed man with white hair was bent over the counter at the back of the shop.

Winter approached him with a bright smile on her face. "Hello, Mr. Ollivander."

Mr. Ollivander looked up from the old wand he was inspecting when he heard the girl's voice. "Winter? You haven't come visit me in such a long time, I was sure you've forgotten about me."

"How could I forget you, Mr. Ollivander?" said Winter kindly. Mr. Ollivander was perhaps one of the few adults whom Winter believed in when they give her praise. "You are considered the best wandmaker in the world."

"Yes, yes," Ollivander said, not sounding like he cared about his title. "How may I help you today?"

"I need a wand for my first year at Hogwarts," Winter replied. Her eyes roamed across the store at all the narrow boxes that lined the shelves. "Can you help me?"

Ollivander nodded before pulling out an enchanted tape measure. The tape measure floated toward Winter and began measuring strange things, the distance between her nostrils, the length of her earlobes, the width of her fingernails, etc.

Winter held still as the measuring tape did its work even though the girl had no idea why it was necessary.

When the tape was finished, Ollivander took a dozen boxes off of a shelf and brought them to the counter. He motioned for Winter to come closer.

The girl stepped toward the boxes to get a better look at them.

Ollivander opened one of the boxes. A short shiny wand lay inside, and the sunlight from an adjacent window made the wood gleam. The wandmaker gingerly took the wand from its box and handed it to Winter, "Try this one. It is elm wood, 10 ½ inches, dragon heartstring core."

Winter took the handle of the wand and stared at the beautiful wood, impressed by the amazing craftsmanship. She pointed the wand at a crumpled up piece of parchment lying on the floor nearby and muttered, "_Accio!_"

Nothing happened.

Winter frowned at the wand, a bit disappointed. She handed it back to Ollivander.

"Don't lose hope, Winter," Ollivander handed her another wand. "I have thousands of wands in the back. Surely one of them would choose you." This did not make Winter feel any better. "This one is made of holly, exactly 12 inches, unicorn hair core."

Winter pointed the wand at that same piece of parchment and attempted the summoning charm again.

The parchment twitched a little, and instead of going toward her, it scooted away from her.

Ollivander shook his head and took that wand back too. The next wand was very long, exactly 16 inches. It was made from rosewood and contained a troll whisker core.

Winter could tell that this wand would not work from the moment it touched her hand. It was too heavy, and she could not get a good grip on the handle.

The fourth wand was pear, 11 ¾ inches long, with a core of unicorn hair. It responded to Winter's spells but still wasn't strong enough to affect anything significantly.

One by one Ollivander and Winter tried each wand on the shelves and finally came to a 13 ¾ inch made of rowan wood with kelpie hair as its core.

When Winter half-heartedly waved the wand and murmured, "_Evanesce_…" her target, the parchment, vanished into thin air with no trouble. The girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she realized that her spells were actually doing something worth noting.

Ollivander nodded thoughtfully at this progress. "Interesting… That is a strange wand, you see," he took the wand and examined it again. "Do you know what a kelpie is, Winter?"

"I have heard of it," Winter replied thoughtfully. "But I do not recall what it is, sorry."

"A kelpie is a creature of the sea," the wandmaker explained. "It is commonly pictured to be a horse that lures children onto its back before drowning them." Ollivander turned the wand in his hand. "Kelpie hair is not a common core for wands. In fact it is considered inferior when compared to phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, and unicorn hair." The wandmaker's eyes flicked up to see Winter's reaction to this, but the girl's expression was neutral.

"But of course, that has nothing to do with the wizard using the wand," he continued casually. "A wand only helps to channel an individual's powers and release it in a way that is controlled. Kelpie hair wands have thrown wizards into sheer frustration and even madness as they, the wand, require much more magical talent from the wizard himself. I've met people who believe that they can do magic just by holding a wand. No, that is not the case. Like I said before, a wand only _channels_ the magic; it doesn't _give_ the user magic. In addition, rowan wood has been noted to have great potential in performing defensive spells.

"This wand has chosen you, Winter. It requires a patient soul, a kind heart, and an innocent mind, just as a kelpie would want its rider to be," He placed the wand in Winter's hand. "You are not being forced to take this wand. If it doesn't fit your liking, we can always dig around in the back for some more."

"But…" Winter stared at the wand. It was very straight, and the wood dyed palely and silver bands separating the beautifully carved handle from the actual wand. "When a wand chooses a wizard, it is almost guaranteed that they would work the best together." She decided, without much thought, that she would take the kelpie hair wand.

"I'll take it," Winter announced. She picked a Galleon from her money pouch and handed it to Ollivander.

Ollivander took the gold coin and nodded with satisfaction. "Come visit me again sometime, Winter. I'd like to know how that wand is working out for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," Winter waved good-bye to the old wandmaker. She then exited the shop and ran to where Dumbledore and Huntington were waiting for her. "Professooooooor!"

Dumbledore looked down at her curiously. "There you are, Winter. What kind of wand did Mr. Ollivander sell you?"

Winter pulled out her wand and held it out to the Headmaster for examination. "It's made from rowan, sir, 13 ¾ inches long, and kelpie hair core."

Dumbledore stroke his long silver beard thoughtfully. "Very interesting… Did Mr. Ollivander tell you about rowan wood?"

Winter furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Well, he told me rowan wood is good for casting defensive spells and shields, but that is all."

"Mr. Ollivander can remember every wand he ever sold," Dumbledore answered with a smile. "He once told me that rowan wands choose pure-hearted wizards, wizards that are not associated with the Dark Arts. When Voldemort," – he said the name quietly so that people passing by wouldn't hear – "gathered his followers, the Death Eaters, not one of them used a rowan wand."

Winter beamed. "That means that I am a good person, then. Isn't that right, Professor Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore placed a hand on Winter's shoulder, they began backtracking up Diagon Alley. "That is for you to decide, my girl."

As the trio walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies which was packed with athletic-looking boys trying on Keeper gloves and swatting around Beater clubs.

Winter rolled her eyes at this. Quidditch is too unpleasantly violent, she thought. It turned Houses against each other and formed dangerous rivalries which always led to one student drawing his wand on another. And the next thing Winter knows, the hospital wing is packed with people.

It's not that she doesn't like competition. Winter enjoyed competing once in a while, but not in the way that requires you to harm the opposing team, not by trying to hitting other players by smacking Bludgers at them, not by slamming into each other to obtain the Quaffle, and not by knocking another Seeker off his broom so you can get the Snitch first.

There are too many ways to cheat in Quidditch, Winter thought. It's literally impossible to watch a fair game, especially when Slytherin and Gryffindor are playing together. They consider each other rivals, and Winter always sees some form of injustice that had gone unnoticed by Madam Hooch, the referee, when they are both on the pitch.

At last, Winter, Dumbledore, and Huntington made it back to the brick wall that would allow them to enter the Leaky Cauldron again. Just before leaving Diagon Alley, Winter bought two pewter cauldrons form Potage's Cauldron Shop and a bag of milk bone treats for Huntington at Magical Menageries.

The time was 3:00 p.m. when they were able to Apparate back to Hogwarts with their many shopping bags and boxes that held their Diagon Alley purchases.

Once back in the Headmaster's office, Winter thanked Dumbledore sincerely for chaperoning the trip and spending so much money on her.

Then she took all of her supplies and stumbled back up to her room, dragging the bags behind her. Huntington had volunteered to carry a small box in its mouth and a large package attached to his tail.

The two dropped their loads onto the floor of Winter's chamber. The girl threw herself onto her bed and pulled her new wand out of one of the bags. "_Lumos!_"

The tip of the wand lit up like with a dazzling silver light.

Winter smiled fondly at the bright spark and waved it around, watching the light leave a trail of glitter.

* * *

_A/N: There you go! I hope I'm not making Winter overpowered or Mary Sue-ish. Please tell me if there's anything I can do to make her a healthy original character! As always, thanks so much for reading, and leave a review for me, please? _


	4. The Sorting Ceremony

*Chapter Three: The Sorting Ceremony*

To say that Winter was nervous would be an understatement. The girl had woken up on September 1st at 5:00 in the morning with pixies in her pants. The sun was just rising up over the horizon, casting a red-orange glow into her room.

Realizing, after a long dull moment, that it was _the_ day, Winter scrambled out of bed and ran to her calendar to look at the cell that was labeled _1__st _which she had doodled and written notes all over.

After confirming that it was indeed the first day of her Hogwarts magical education, Winter let out a very girly squeal of delight, waking up an agitated Huntington from his sleep.

Winter danced her way to her wardrobe and changed into a beautiful white dress that she usually wore when she sat beside Dumbledore at the Head Table in the Great Hall to watch the Sorting Ceremony. She had fun twirling around in it like a ballerina for a few minutes before it dawned on her that she had forgotten something.

She would not be sitting beside the Headmaster this year, Winter realized. She would be standing in line in front of Professor McGonagall as the Transfiguration teacher calls out each first year's name so that they could be sorted into their respective Houses.

Winter looked down at her pretty dress sadly, knowing that she would not wear it again. Sighing, the girl reluctantly took off the garment and replaced it with something not as flashy; a white shirt with an intelligent-looking, black pencil skirt. Then she threw on one of the plain black work robes from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to complete the Hogwarts uniform.

She looked at herself in the magic mirror. The mirror made no comment which Winter was thankful for since it rarely had anything nice to say to anyone.

Afterwards, she spent much time brushing her curly charcoal black hair and tying them into two cute piggy-tails that cascaded over her shoulders.

By 8:00 a.m. Winter had gone down to breakfast, and by 8:30 she had finished and begun packing up her necessities into a large trunk in order to move them to whatever dormitory she would be assigned to tonight.

After that, she aimlessly wandered around the school, searching for things to do that would make time go faster. Snape assigned her the job of recording all of the ingredients he had in his Potions classroom, the quantity of each, and exactly where each one was found on the shelves. It was painfully boring, and Winter began wondering if the Potions Master was simply giving her this task simply as a way to break her bright and cheery personality.

Nonetheless, Winter is a good girl. She politely finished her job for Snape and got out of the room as quickly as possible before the professor could assign her another.

As she came up the stairs from the dungeons, the girl noticed Professor Trelawney roaming around in her usual misty and confused manner. Winter truly worried about the Divination teacher sometimes. _I swear,_ she thought with concern,_ someday her classroom will catch on fire while she's teaching, and she wouldn't notice a thing._

"Professor Trelawney?" Winter tried to assist. "Are you lost? Would you like me to help you find your classroom again?"

Trelawney stared at Winter through her large glasses that magnified her eyes to ten times their normal size. "Oh hello, Winter, dear… You haven't seen my tea leaves, have you?"

Winter swallowed, feeling a bit paranoid. She had drunk a cup of tea that morning. "Why can't you just get some from the kitchen? I'm sure that house elves wouldn't mind you taking a pinch or too."

Trelawney shook her head, "No, no, no, the tea leaves used in tea leaf reading must be very specific," she lectured. "You'll understand when you take Divination in third year, Winter."

Winter wasn't sure she was planning on taking Trelawney's class _ever_. She imagined that Divination would be very difficult if "one does not have the Inner Eye" as Professor Trelawney herself had quoted. "I'm sorry, Professor," Winter said finally. "I do not know where your tea leaves are."

The Divination teacher looked at her in confusion for a very long time. "Ooh… Alright, I suppose I'd better keep looking…" she began making her way down to the dungeons.

Winter hoped that Trelawney wouldn't bother Snape. The Potions master appeared to be in a sour mood about the first day of the school year. Winter suspected that it was because of Harry Potter again. _What if Harry gets sorted to Slytherin?_ Winter smiled at this._ That would be interesting. Professor Snape doesn't seem to like Harry Potter, but if Harry is in his own House…_

Shaking her head, Winter realized how strange it would be to have Harry Potter, the person who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sorted into Slytherin House. Dumbledore told her that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in Slytherin, would that not be odd?

Winter herself doesn't favor or disfavor any of the Houses, not even Slytherin. But she's decided that her most preferred choice would be Ravenclaw. There was something about being in the most intelligent House and living in that spacious common room that Winter loved more than any other.

The girl spent the rest of her day arguing with herself about what House would be the best match for her.

That evening, the moon was very bright and the sun had just set behind the pale horizon. Winter looked outside her window so that she could see the scarlet locomotive of the Hogwarts Express pulling to a stop at Hogsmeade Station in the distance. She interestedly observed masses of black, the students in their Hogwarts robes, stepping off the train.

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!" Winter could easily identify Hagrid in the crowd. The gamekeeper was herding a timid group of first years down a forest path while all the other students boarded a long line of carriages which would take them to Hogwarts. Winter watched the first years follow Hagrid as they journeyed through the forest to get to the edge of the Black Lake that surrounded Hogwarts.

The students were urged onto the enchanted rowboats that lay on the shore of the lake. Because Winter watched from the high tower that was her room and the sun was almost completely gone, she could not see the first years very well. She leaned out her window as much as she could and squinted at them as their boats began sailing across the Black Lake.

Their mouths could clearly be seen dropping open at the sight of Hogwarts for the first time.

Winter took much pride in seeing the faces of the new students when they get their first glimpse of Hogwarts from their boat. It made feel very happy to have the castle as her home.

It is truly a stunning sight, especially at that time of day. The lanterns and torches that surrounded the outside of the castle had just begun lighting up. The castle itself was beautifully designed and looked very strange with some parts lit by lights and others not. The moon hung in the background dramatically. And all this was reflected in the Black Lake which made the scene more surreal.

Huntington placed his front paws onto the frame of Winter's window, wanting to get a good look at the first years as well, but they had already sailed out of sight.

Winter guessed that they were possibly entering the castle now, being led by Professor McGonagall to the room in which they must wait until the Sorting Ceremony. Winter decided that it was time to join them.

She made sure that all of her things were packed into her trunk; her school supplies, clothes, wand, and other necessities. Winter knew to leave her things in her room and that they would be automatically teleported to whichever House she was to be sorted into.

Then she and Huntington went down to the room where the first years should have been taken. It was not far from her own chamber, just down the stairs, through the north corridor, second door on her right.

Just as Winter reached the bottom of her tower, she saw Professor McGonagall leading the new students past her, Winter's, door. Winter took this as her chance to blend in with the rest of the boys and girl as they were steered into the waiting room. To her surprise, Huntington followed her.

Winter had expected the wolf to run off to the Great Hall and greet the people that were returning to Hogwarts. For the past few years, Huntington had made friends with a few of the older students, one of them being Cedric Diggory. Winter, though she continued to be in denial, had had a school girl crush on him since she was nine. He was in fourth year this year, a bit too old for the girl, but she still occasionally wrote sappy, cheesy, and embarrassing diary entries about him.

"I remember you!" Winter jumped when she heard a familiar bossy voice call out. At first she thought that the voice was addressing her, but then realized that it was not. Winter whirled around to see Hermione Granger bent down beside Huntington, rubbing then wolf's furry head and talking to him, "I met you at Flourish & Blotts a few days ago. I've always wanted a dog, too bad Mum is allergic."

Hermione looked up at that moment to see Winter. She arched an eyebrow questioningly at her. "You're the girl from Diagon Alley! Winter, is it?" she realized after a moment. "I didn't see you on the Hogwarts Express or on those rowboats. How did you get here?"

Winter was pleased that Hermione had bothered to remember her name as Winter had bothered to remember Hermione's. "I live here," she replied. "I'm related to Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione frowned at this. "That's strange," she said, trying very hard to recall something. "I just read _Hogwarts: A History_, and it never mentioned Headmaster Dumbledore having any blood relatives besides his brother Alberforth. Who are you parents?"

Winter hesitated. She once asked Dumbledore the same question, but the Headmaster had cleverly danced around the subject and in the end, Winter never got a straight answer. "I-"

"So it's true then," came a snarky voice from the other end of the room. "What they were saying on the train, Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

There were quiet murmurs and squeals from some of the students, "Harry Potter!" one of them being Winter, bouncing up on her toes like a fan girl. She whispered politely as she squeezed through the crowd to get a good look at the boy, "Excuse me, pardon me, move along, let me through…"

At she arrived at a small circle formed by the other first years. In that clearing was a red haired boy with freckles. He was standing beside another lad with untidy black hair and round glasses. And talking to them was a pointy faced boy with hair so blonde that it was almost white. Two other boys with thick builds flanked the blonde like bodyguards.

Winter immediately identified the boy with glasses as Harry Potter. Mainly because he wore a name tag that clearly read _Harry Potter_ but also because his lightning bolt shaped scar was visible behind his hair. Still, Winter was not expecting the Boy Who Lived to look like this.

He was very skinny and small, like he had never had a decent meal in his entire life. His glasses were crooked on his face and though they were repaired by magic, Winter could tell that they were once very broken.

Nonetheless, the girl did not let these small flaws change her opinion about meeting the boy. She quickly scrambled up to Harry, probably interrupting whatever the blonde boy was saying. "Hello, there! It _is _you after all! My name is Winter, and I humbly welcome you to my home," she stuck her hand out to him in invitation.

Harry looked at her for a moment, possibly calculating what kind of person she was. Winter continued to smile and look at him with expectant eyes. "Come on, I don't bite," she urged.

At last, Harry hesitantly shook Winter's hand. "Hi, I'm Harry."

On the inside, Winter was completely spazzing out at having officially met _the _Harry Potter. She knew that she was overreacting about something as simple as a hand shake, but was sure anyone else would have responded in the same manner. And besides, her fan-girl-like syndromes were only in her mind.

The ginger haired boy next to Harry seemed to be his acquaintance. In that case…

Winter turned to him with a bright smile. "Hello to you, too! I am happy to have you here at Hogwarts as well. Please tell me your name, and perhaps we can be friends."

The boy silently gawked at Winter, his jaw going slack.

Harry nudged him, trying to get the boy to wake up from his trance. "Ron? Are you okay?"

There was a long moment of awkward silence as all the first years and Winter stared intently at the boy, with genuine concern. Had she said something wrong? What if she offended him? Oh no…

Winter opened her mouth to apologize but at that moment, the boy, Ron was his name, had found his voice. "You smell good…" he breathed dreamily.

A few first years including the pointy faced boy had snickered at the ginger's blank response.

_Eh?_ Winter was taken aback by the sudden and strange words that escaped Ron's mouth. She raised an eyebrow curiously at him. That was very unexpected but… Still, it was a compliment, she decided, and it was very kind of Ron to tell her that.

"Thank you..." Winter slowly regained her posture, feeling a little confused at what just happened. She continued like it was perfectly normal to tell someone that they smelled nice, "That's my shampoo, I think." She paused to lightly sniff one of her piggy-tails. "It's chocolate mint."

Ron seemed to break out of his dream-like state at this. His face visibly turned the color of his hair as he realized what he had just said. "Did I just say that out loud?" he whispered worriedly to Harry. "Why did I say that out loud?!"

Winter did her best to pretend not to hear for the Ron's sake. Eager to change the subject, she them turned to address the blonde boy and his two very big and intimidating cronies. "And you are…?"

She had expected each of them to say their names, but the two buff first years remained silent while the blonde haired boy spoke for them. "This is Crabbe," he tipped his head toward the lad to his right. "And Goyle," he pointed to the boy at his left. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Winter wandered if she was supposed to be impressed by this, judging from the proud way the boy had declared his name. She also found it odd that the boy, Draco, called his two friends by their last names as if they were merely foot soldiers in his army. Deciding to keep this to herself, Winter then politely offered to shake hands. "It was lovely to meet you, Draco."

Draco mechanically shook her hand as if he had been taught exactly how to greet people with flawless poise. However, the way he tilted his head up so that he had to look down at her gave Winter the impression that he was used to being superior to people, even though she was actually a centimeter taller than him.

Nevertheless, the girl still smiled with satisfaction that he accepted her handshake. Then Winter reached out to Crabbe and Goyle too.

The two boys didn't move and glared at her, daring the girl to try and force them into the handshake. Their palms also looked sweaty and very insanitary, too. Winter wasn't too fond of this. She slowly and awkwardly retracted her hand away from them, trying very hard not to seem rude. "Uh... Never mind…"

At that moment, Professor McGonagall came into the room, "First years, the Sorting Ceremony is about to begin," she called as everyone grew quiet, eager to hear her instructions. "You will get in two lines and follow me to the Great Hall."

The first years hesitantly shuffled into their two lines. Winter noticed that the person across from her was Ron, who was smiling apologetically at her. Winter smiled back to let him know that all was forgiven. She could hear Hermione's voice somewhere in the back, telling a student about what she had read in _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_.

Draco wore a self-satisfied grin and held his head high, like a prince going to his coronation ceremony or something.

Harry Potter stood in front of Ron; he seemed unusually calm about going to his Sorting. Winter thought that he must have a lot of self-control to look this normal while waiting to be Sorted. The girl decided that she must be just as cool and collected as Harry Potter.

She wiped the involuntary grin off her face and replaced it with an expression that matched Harry's; neutral, dignified, and composed. However, her lips kept twitching and Winter was forced to abandon her plan for the sake of not looking like she was having an uncontrollable muscle spasm.

McGonagall then led them out of their waiting room and back into the tricky halls of the castle.

Winter watched Huntington trot out of sight as they all made their way to the Great Hall. The wolf was probably going to the kitchen to sneak some food from the house elves, Winter thought.

It was not long before they, the first years and McGonagall, reached the Great Hall where the large door of the entrance way were slid open to allow them a grand entry.

The four House tables of the Great Hall were now occupied by the many students returning to Hogwarts for another year of magical education. The Hall was lit by thousands of floating candles, drifting around the room. But the ceiling was the most interesting. It seemed as though the Great Hall had no roof at all. One would look up and see the swirling clouds, twinkling stars, and dark night sky.

"It's not real, the ceiling," Hermione could be heard as the first years paraded into the Great Hall. "It's only an enchantment, I read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Winter smiled to herself when she heard this. She followed her line of first years to the front of the Hall where the Head Table was. Winter was aware that every pair of eyes in the room was locked on the first years. Seeing Dumbledore sitting up at the center of the Head Table made Winter feel a little better.

In front of the Head Table was a shabby wooden stool with a very old and torn up hat resting on it.

McGonagall motioned for the first years to stop and form a semicircle around the hat. And when all was quiet in the Great Hall, she spoke, "Now, when I call your name," she waved her wand in the air, and a long roll of parchment appeared in her hand. "You will each come up one at a time, and I shall place the Sorting Hat on your head."

She took her time unrolling the parchment and glancing at the first name on the list. "Hermione Granger."

Winter looked over her shoulder to watch Hermione nervously approaching the Sorting Hat. Her, Hermione's, breath was short as she sat down on the stool, and McGonagall dropping the filthy hat onto her bushy hair.

To the first years' utter shock, the folds of the hat formed a mouth and spoke, "Hmm…," it mused thoughtfully, "Yes, I know… Gryffindor!"

The House Table that stood the farthest to Winter's left, obviously the Gryffindors', erupted with cheers and cat calls as Hermione relaxed, happily took off the Sorting Hat, and skipped off to join the rest of her House at their table.

Winter took a deep breath to calm herself. Then she quietly waited for the next name. "Neville Longbottom." McGonagall announced.

A chubby and timid boy stumbled as he approached the Sorting Hat.

As the Hat sat on Neville's head, Winter could see that the poor boy was begging to be put into Hufflepuff and not in whichever House the Hat was considering. It appeared that Neville had lost the argument when the Sorting Hat finally bellowed, "Gryffindor!"

More cheers came from the Gryffindor Table. Poor Neville looked very disappointed as he made his way there to join the House that he did not want to be in.

"Hannah Abbot," McGonagall continued.

Another girl stepped out from the crowd of first years. It didn't take long for the Sorting Hat to declare her a "Hufflepuff!"

"Draco Malfoy," the Transfiguration teacher read from her list.

Draco haughtily strutted to the stool and sat down. The Sorting Hat had barely touched his head before shouting, "Slytherin!"

It was clear that the boy was very happy about his House selection by the way he smirked as he hurried off to join the other Slytherins.

"Ronald Weasley," was next. The look on his face almost comical, showing the sheer panic and utter horror that ran through his head. He forced himself to get to the Sorting Hat and shakily awaited the declaration of his House.

They, Ron and the Hat, appeared to have had a one-sided conversation before the Hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Ron flushed with relief, happy to be anywhere besides Slytherin House.

"Winter Dumbledore," McGonagall called.

There was a hushed silence. People began standing up to get a better look at what House the Headmaster's own granddaughter would be in.

Winter's smile immediately faded when she heard her name. She knew that everyone was waiting, so she slowly edged though the crowd of fellow first years, doing her best to look normal as she walked up to the Sorting Hat.

Dumbledore was watching her with much interest and amusement.

Winter sat down in her chair and held her breath while McGonagall placed the Hat on her head.

"Ooh, the Headmaster's girl, eh?" the Sorting Hat whispered in her ear. "This should be interesting… Hmm…"

"Ravenclaw, please?" Winter politely suggested. "I would very much appreciate it, Mr. Sorting Hat, if you would put me in Ravenclaw."

"Oh, no, no, no!" the Hat murmured and if the Hat had a head, Winter was sure it would be shaking it. "Ravenclaw would be the last House I'd put you in…"

Winter frowned in hurt. She glared up at the Hat. "Hey, are you saying I'm not smart or clever or intelligent?"

"Now I never said that," the Hat replied calmly. "Ravenclaw simply won't be able to help you on your road to greatness, oh no, not nearly as well as… let's say… SLYTHERIN!"

_...What?_

"What?! Wait, no!" but before Winter could argue with the Sorting Hat, McGonagall had already taken the thing off of her, and the Slytherin Table was warmly welcoming her to their circle of allies – not friends – _allies_.

How could she have possibly been sorted into Slytherin? It wasn't that Winter didn't like Slytherin because of its reputation (she hates stereotypes with a passion), she just found it to be the House that matched her personality the least. Has the Sorting Hat gone insane?

"You'll thank me later!" sang the Hat as Winter reluctantly slid off the stool, walked over to the Slytherin table, making an effort to not look as upset as she felt, and that wasn't easy as Winter was rubbish at hiding her emotions. With a huff, she moodily plopped down in a chair across from Draco Malfoy.

_Well, not _all_ hope is lost,_ Winter tried to cheer herself up. _Harry hasn't been sorted yet. Perhaps there is still a chance of being friends with him, even though Hermione and Ron are now out of reach forever… What a pity. They seemed so nice, too._

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat bellowed, and a dark haired boy was sorted into Winter's desired House.

Winter was striving very hard to not glare enviously at the Ravenclaw student as he ran off to join the table farthest to the right of the Great Hall. Once again, being unable to control her emotions, she ended up leering at the Ravenclaw boy so fiercely that he quickly swerved away from the Slytherin Table and went the long way around to the table of his Housemates.

"Slytherin!"

"Sssssssslytherin!"

And with that, Crabbe and Goyle were put into Winter's house as well. At that point, the girl just wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back out. This was a nightmare, she thought, what if she ends up in Slytherin all alone with only Draco and his bodyguard as company?!

Winter struggled to make eye contact with Dumbledore, hoping that the Headmaster would be able to sort (no pun intended) her misplacement out, but the Headmaster wasn't looking in her direction. He was carefully listening to McGonagall reading the names.

"Harry Potter."

The Hall went silent again, and Winter could feel the pressure in the room as the Hat was put on Harry's head. Obviously, everyone wanted the Boy-Who-Lived to be in their House. He would be the prized jewel of their shelf.

The Sorting Hat took a long time talking to Harry and looking inside his head. The boy kept chanting something, but Winter was too far away to hear what it was. She only hoped that the Sorting Hat would put Harry in Slytherin too. That way, she'd have at least one decent person to hang out with.

Winter yearned that the other Slytherins wouldn't notice as she clasped her hands together under the table, praying to Merlin and all the gods above that Harry Potter would be in her House.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

That did it. Winter's mind went blank. There were deafening cheers from the Gryffindor Table, but she couldn't hear any of it. She was an empty shell.

All of her chances of becoming friends with Harry Potter had just been ripped to shreds and thrown into an inferno of Greek fire. There was absolutely no way a Slytherin and a Gryffindor could even _talk_ to each other without some kind of insult of argument in the conversation, much less become friends.

One by one, the rest of the first years were placed in their respective Houses. Pansy Parkinson ended up in Slytherin as well. And so were Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, and a few others who seemed happy about the Sorting Hat's choice.

At this point, Professor Dumbledore stood up to say the magic words that made food appear on the golden plates of the House Tables, "Let the feast begin!"

All sorts of dishes and desserts teleported from the kitchens and onto the empty plates in front of the students. There were gasps of pleasant surprise from the first years.

Winter wasn't very hungry and only watched as her Housemates helped themselves to chicken, gravy, bread rolls, pasta, soup, salad, cheese fondue, and ice cream. She practiced some breathing exercises to keep herself from breaking into silent sobs of self-pity. Still, crying wouldn't change anything, Winter knew that much.

Since she's in now Slytherin House for good as McGonagall had taken the Sorting Hat back to Dumbledore's office, she might as well make the best of it. She half-heartedly cut herself a piece of chicken, a buttered roll, mashed potatoes, and a gorge full of brown gravy.

Winter ate silently for a few minutes, listening to Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy (they seemed to get along very well) having a deep conversation about who had filthier blood, a Muggle-born or a half-human.

"Winter," Winter jumped in surprise as Draco invited her into the debate, with the friendliness that he did not show while he was in the waiting room before the Sorting Ceremony. "Who do you think is worse? A mutant creature that is only half human, or a Muggle (he said the word like it was acid on his tongue) who just got lucky to be able to do magic?"

Winter was going to ask Draco to kindly leave her out of this, but Pansy began explaining her reasoning with much enthusiasm.

"Take that Hermione Granger for example," she was saying, wrinkling her nose with distaste at the thought of the bushy haired girl. "She came onto the Hogwarts Express acting like she knew everything there is to know about magic just from reading that book of hers, _Hogwarts: A History_, is it? I _hate_ it when Muggles think that they truly be one of us."

Draco sneered in the direction of the Gryffindor Table where Hermione, Ron, and Harry were eating their dinner with much joy and laughter, almost like they'd known each other since birth. "Look at them, the _Golden_ Trio," he muttered with amusement.

Winter perked up at this, glad that Draco was showing some sort of compassion for the trio of Gryffindors. "Really?" she chirped hopefully.

Draco turned to look at her like she was a lunatic. "It was sarcasm," he said slowly, when the girl stared back at him blankly. "Ever heard of it?"

"Well, yes, I have _heard_ of it," Winter began brightly. But she soon frowned as she realized something. "But… Professor Dumbledore told me that sarcasm isn't a good thing, and that I should avoid getting in the habit of using it."

The other two Slytherins soon processed that Winter was serious. Draco glanced at Pansy, and the girl shrugged at him in confusion. "As I was saying…" the blonde continued hesitantly, deciding to let Winter's misunderstanding be forgiven. "You were right, Pansy, Granger _is_ more obnoxious than other – "

Winter quickly cupped her ears as to not hear the _M_ word come out of Draco's mouth. Winter knew that Professor Dumbledore would've gladly washed her mouth with troll wax if the girl ever happened to repeat the word to him. Even through her hands, however, she heard the horrible term, "_Mudbloods._"

The girl looked up and down the Slytherin Table and found that either nobody cared about Draco using that word or they just pretended not to hear it. Yet, Winter did not want to ruin her chances of having friends to in her House, so she kept her mouth shut as the conversation continued.

"Weasley," Draco said. "He's at least a pure-blood. But have you seen the robes he's wearing? I would bet five Galleons that that idiot, Percy Weasley, wore the same robes during _his_ first year. It's a pity, really," he fed himself a chunk of white cake and swallowed before continuing. "The Weasels could have been a great pure-blood family if they didn't decide to have more children than they can afford."

Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle all snickered at this. Winter had forgotten that Draco's bodyguards were still there. The last time she'd watched them, the pair were having difficulties holding the table's tiny silverware in their oversized, clumsy hands.

"What about Harry Potter?" Pansy asked with interest. "What happened when you offered your hand of friendship to him?"

Draco snorted. "Potter wanted to go around making friends with the Weasel more than me. Would you believe it?" he asked incredulously. "I hope he doesn't think he's better than anyone else in Hogwarts just because he's the _Boy Who Lived_." The last three words were declared as a mockery.

Winter almost smiled at the irony of that last phrase coming out of Draco as it is _he_ who seemed to expect special treatment just because he's a pure-blood wizard. Then again, Slytherin has been known for having an obsession with blood-status, which Draco and Pansy had demonstrated just now. But Winter, who did not often use stereotypes, was still aware of that.

After dinner, Professor Dumbledore led the student in the Hogwarts School song in which everyone sang in a different tune and tempo. Winter, not being the best singer, finished quickly before she ends up being the only person left standing. In the end, the Weasley twins Fred and George were the only ones still humming as they continued to sing the Hogwarts song to the tune of a very long and dull funeral march.

Winter noticed Professor Quirrell, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, continuously fixing his fancy purple turban as the song went on. He used to teach Muggle Studies, but Dumbledore had offered him the DADA job for that year. Winter really liked Quirrell as the Muggle Studies teacher; he used to hand out Muggle Girl Scout cookies to her when she was little, which led to Winter now being obsessively addicted to Thin Mints. She hasn't seen him as the DADA teacher yet, but she didn't really care, as long as he still had an endless supply of GS cookies.

Though the new DADA teacher had been likable in previous years, this year Winter could not help but notice a change in his character. He was still jumpy, a bit odd, and stuttered a lot, but he had also grown very secretive. When Winter went to his classroom to ask for another box of cookies, Quirrell had gone completely berserk about her not bothering to knock first. Also, Winter had been quite fascinated by Quirrell's turban since she first saw it, and Huntington had also seemed very interested in it as well. The professor claimed that an African prince gave it to him as a thank-you gift for getting rid of a band of zombies. Winter wandered if he ever took the thing off for washing as it gave off a foul stench.

Fred and George had finally finished their version of the Hogwarts song.

Dumbledore got up from his seat again to address a few more matters; most of them were Mr. Filch's requests. Afterwards, he waved his hands and what was left of their dinners disappeared, leaving the plates sparkling clean again.

Then they were kindly dismissed to go to their dorms. Winter followed the rest of the Slytherins out of the Great Hall as their prefect (Winter could not remember his name) herded them toward the stairs that led to Slytherin Dungeon, their common room.

Winter looked around for Huntington whom she had not seen in a long time.

But the wolf was nowhere to be found. Winter decided that she shouldn't worry. Huntington always turned up at one point or another. She also noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione heading off to Gryffindor tower as Percy Weasley lectured them about the rules of the dorms and common room.

"Coming?" Pansy called to Winter at the top of the staircase that would lead down to their own dorms.

Winter hurried after her as to not look suspicious.

Of all the time Winter had spent in her lifetime wandering around Hogwarts castle, she had never visited the common rooms of the four Houses. Dumbledore wouldn't allow her for some unknown reason. When Winter and Pansy reached Slytherin Dungeon (the password for the portrait was "unicorn blood"), it was not as dark and cold as the former had expected.

It had a cool detached look with leather furniture, thin iron bars over the windows, a polished stone floor, and majestic archways all around the room. However, there was also a glimmer of pleasantness as the large fireplace was lit with tall dancing flames, and the large crescent moon could be seen through one of the tall narrow windows.

Two passageways branched off from the main common room which, Winter realized, separated the boys' dormitory from the girls'.

She took the time to wave a friendly good-bye to Draco, (Vincent) Crabbe, and (Gregory) Goyle as they broke away from Pansy and Winter to go to the boys' dorm rooms.

When Winter saw the chamber that was to be her sleeping quarters for the rest of the school year, she was very happy. Of course, she knew that she would have to share with four other Slytherin girls, but the room was strangely spacious even with five beds spread out across it. There was a lamp for each of the room's occupants, but no overhead light as the room was for sleeping only.

Winter took note of her roommates. One was Pansy, which Winter was happy about. The other Slytherin girl obviously didn't like Hermione Granger, but she was still friendly enough to her Housemates.

There was another girl named Millicent whom Winter remembered from the Sorting Ceremony. She was a large and bulky, not unlike a female version of Crabbe or Goyle. Although Winter had never spoken to her, Millicent looked like a relatively decent person.

And another was Daphne Greengrass, who was very pretty in Winter's opinion. Another girl was someone she had never seen before. She was small with glasses and a shy, Hufflepuff-like presence (Winter had no idea why the Sorting Hat had put this girl in Slytherin).

The girls each silently chose a bed before beginning to unpack their trunks which had been teleported to the dorm.

Winter threw open her own trunk and picked up her diary, lying on top of the pile of carefully folded clothes. She flipped through the journal for a few seconds to look over her entries which were written in small, neat handwriting. She put the diary down on her bedside table.

"Ooh, look at these," Pansy said as she found the girls' Hogwarts uniforms inside of a large wardrobe at the other end of the room. "They're not at stylish as I would like them, but they'll have to do."

Winter caught a Slytherin green tie with thick silver stripes, a plain white buttoned shirt, a green knitted V-neck jumper, and a pleated skirt as Pansy tossed them to her. She studied the tie with much interest. "I've never worn a tie before…"

As Pansy struggled to find a uniform that would be large enough to not choke Millicent Bulstrode, Winter changed into the white shirt and clumsily adjusted the tie around her neck. She felt professional while wearing something so formal, not to mention that she also had to wear the jumper over the tie when school starts tomorrow, September 2.

After an hour of fooling around in their uniforms, Winter and her roommates began getting ready to sleep. They took turns in the bathroom to shower and put on their nightwear.

Once she was under the dark green covers of her bed, Winter sleepily called to the other girls. "Sweet dreams."

Pansy replied with a "Good night, everyone."

Daphne also called back, "'Night…"

The others did not say anything and simply covered their heads with their quilts.

Winter liked to listen to the sound of the crickets chirping at night which she could hear much more clearly in her Slytherin dorm than she could back in her tower.

* * *

_A/N: I just noticed the creepiest thing: both of the OCs I am writing about, Cress and Winter, have the same names as the upcoming books from the Lunar Chronicles... That is the freakiest coincidence ever... I'm feeling sort of superstitious now. *Shivers* Anyways, thanks for reading, and again this chapter is not my work but I edited it a little. Leave a review for me, please? I can't hand out free cookies, but you'll have the satisfaction of getting better and longer chapters faster if you take the time to type a review. As always, thanks so much for reading, and I'll see you all later!_


	5. The Hogwarts Experience (Part I)

*Chapter Four: The Hogwarts Experience (Part I)*

_Dear Diary,_

_Last night was the Sorting Ceremony, and I did not get put into Ravenclaw like I had hoped. Instead the Sorting Hat had placed me into Slytherin House. I can't say that I hate it, but I still wish that I was in Ravenclaw._

_It's not as horrible as I had imagined, here in Slytherin. At the Welcoming Feast, I met a couple of other first years who are in my House. Their names are Pansy and Draco. In fact, Pansy is one of my roommates. They don't seem to like Gryffindors or Muggle‐ borns very much, but they are still rather pleasant when they are with fellow Slytherins._

_Harry Potter got placed in Gryffindor House. So did Hermione Granger, a girl I met at Diagon Alley, and Ron Weasley, a rather flattering boy who told me that I smelled nice yesterday. Pansy and Draco don't like Hermione very much. They say that she is such a know‐it‐ all and a chatterbox, and that people like her ‐ Muggle‐ borns ‐ shouldn't be allowed to lecture pure‐bloods about The History of Magic. Draco told me this is exactly what Hermione had done on the Hogwarts Express._

_I do not care much whether a witch is Muggle‐born or not, but people have different opinions. I've decided that I should respect Pansy and Draco's and not make any comments about the subject._

_Today is my first day of magical education. 8:00 is when we must get to our first class. Professor Dumbledore told me that class schedules would be delivered in the morning, and mine just came a few minutes ago. It simply appeared on my bedside table. I have not looked at it yet, but I have already memorized all of the required courses for first years. I only hope that Madam Hooch's flying class wouldn't last long. I do not enjoy sitting on a skinny, hard pole of wood for a whole class period. It's simply too uncomfortable. Perhaps I would fly on a Hippogriff or some other creature with fur and feathers to cushion my seating, but not a broomstick._

_It's about time that we go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. I will write more, later._

‐_Winter_

The writer closed her diary and put it away in a little dresser beside her bed. She looked around the dormitory to see that her roommates were awake.

Pansy was sleepily stepping out of the bathrooms after changing into the Hogwarts school uniform, brushing her teeth, and combing her hair. She blinked unfocusedly in Winter's direction. "Good morning."

"Hello," Winter answered brightly. She had cleverly woken up before the other girls in order to avoid the chaotic morning rush in which everyone would fight over the showers and sinks.

Daphne and the quiet girl (Winter still hadn't asked for her name yet) were in line for the bathroom, as Millicent went in after Pansy had finished.

Everyone's movements were slow and zombie‐like.

Winter looked down at her uniform to straighten it up and flick away any fuzz balls or loose strings. It wasn't the most comfortable thing to wear, but it was required for school days.

Winter wasn't sure if she was allowed to go to breakfast without her roommates. She was getting a bit hungry and did not wish to wait for the other girls to walk to Great Hall with her. Who knew how long they'd take in the showers?

As if to answer Winter's silent question, Pansy had touched up the last part of her uniform and shouldered her school bag before saying, "Coming to breakfast, Winter? I doubt they'll finish anytime soon," she nodded toward their roommates still waiting their turn in the bathroom. "If we don't go to the Great Hall quickly, the Gryffindors will have already contaminated the place with their mere presence."

"I'll be there in a minute," Winter grabbed her bag containing all of her textbooks, quickly checked to make sure that everything was in it, and quickly followed Pansy as they left their dormitory behind.

Descending the short staircase that led to the common room, Pansy took out a piece of parchment from her bag. "Have you read your schedule yet? I wanted to see if we have any classes together."

Winter dug around in the pockets of her satchel and produced her own piece of parchment. She and Pansy both leaned in to compare their lists as they walked. "We have Transfiguration together..." Winter muttered after looking between their schedules. "... And Defense Against the Dark Arts... and Potions, as well as Charms."

"Well, that's not too bad," Pansy commented. "At least we have half of our classes with each other. And Draco will surely have a few periods with us. We'll have to see when we find him."

The girls stuffed their schedules away as they entered the Slytherin common room which was rather empty asides from a couple of fourth years and a fifth year.

Two second year males came down from the boy's dormitory. Also hailing from the boy's dorms were Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. The blonde looked like he got a good night's sleep. His bleach blonde hair was slicked back with an unthinkable amount of gel.

The same could not be said about his cronies. Crabbe and Goyle looked like they had wanted to sleep longer, but their master (Draco), had forced them to wake up and accompany him into the common room. Crabbe's chin had traces of drool on it while Goyle had a faraway, sleepy look in his eyes that reminded Winter of Professor Trelawney.

"Draaaaaaco!" Pansy sang and waved for the Slytherin boy to join them.

Though there were not many people to watch his grand entrance, Draco still smirked haughtily as he swaggered across the common room, his robes billowing dramatically behind him.

Winter had a sudden vision of Draco as a smug white peacock parading around the chamber. The girl's lips twitched with amusement, and she coughed into her hands in order to hide her grin. "Good morning, Draco," she greeted politely after forcing herself stop smiling.

Draco stopped in front of them, "Winter, Pansy," he replied pleasantly.

"Hello, Draco," Pansy said, not bothering to acknowledge Crabbe or Goyle. "Winter and I were discussing our schedules. I want to look at yours as well. Let's go up to breakfast, shall we?"

The three Slytherins climbed up the wide staircase that led up from their dungeon common room. Draco seemed to have forgotten about Crabbe and Goyle, leaving them to trail far behind him.

Pansy was looking over the boys' schedule as she walked. "Hmm... We all have Transfiguration together for first period," she said thoughtfully. "... And Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Quirrell."

"Do you think that Professor Quirrell is a bit strange?" Winter asked, remembering the teacher from last night.

Draco and Pansy looked at her in question. "How so?" the Slytherin girl asked curiously.

Winter then realized that both of her friends have only known Quirrell since the Welcoming Feast last night. "He's so...timid about the Dark Arts," she began. "I've known him since he was the Muggle Studies teacher last year. How can he possibly teach us how to defend against the Dark Arts if he's scared of them? Not to mention he's terrified of Professor Snape, as well." She paused to let her friends process the information.

Draco wrinkled his nose, repulsed, "There's a class here called Muggle Studies? That better not be a required course," he muttered with agitation. "If so, my father would surely transfer me to Dumstrang."

"Oh, Muggle Studies is not required," Winter replied helpfully. "You can't even take it until 3rd year. And when you do – wait, what am I saying?" the girl realized that she was getting off topic. "That's not the point, Draco! We're talking about Professor Quirrell, not Muggle Studies.

"About his turban, it's a rather intriguing object." Winter continued hastily. "He never takes it off, even in the summertime. Can you imagine how terribly hot it must be to wear that thing in the middle of June?"

Pansy shook her head, "Draco and I haven't known Quirrell long enough to make a judgment, Winter. We'll have to see for ourselves in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Until then, I'm afraid we can't help you."

Winter sighed as she understood that Pansy had a point. "Right, it's okay. Don't worry about it. I must be going mad, thinking that Professor Quirrell is up to something. He's such a nervous and shy person, you know."

Obviously, Pansy and Draco didn't know, but the two decided to just drop the subject.

They had reached the top of their staircase. The corridors and Hogwarts castle were beginning to fill up with students of all ages. Further down the hall was the entrance that led up Ravenclaw Tower.

Winter's stomach gave a jolt as a large mob of Ravenclaws came out. All those people... She thought longingly. So many students got into Ravenclaw, why couldn't one of them have been me? Exhaling in sadness, she tore her eyes away from them and followed her Slytherin friends, keeping close to them as they made their rather long walk toward the Great Hall.

While passing the moving staircases that would guide up to Gryffindor Tower, Winter noticed a few familiar faces from the Welcoming Ceremony. She saw Neville Longbottom nervously coming down from the Gryffindor common room and cowering timidly as older students pushed past him.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron, the Golden Trio, as Draco had referred to them, were nowhere to be found. Either they were still sleeping or they had already at the Great Hall.

As they approached the Hall, Winter again had forgotten that Crabbe and Goyle were still behind them, silently following in Draco's shadow. Winter honestly felt sorry for them. She hoped that they didn't consider themselves friends of the blonde boy. From what Winter has observed, that would only be wishful thinking. Draco didn't seem to talk or interact with them nearly as much as he did with her and Pansy.

What was their purpose while trailing along behind the blonde boy and his real friends? Winter's eyes shifted left and right, as she tried to figure this out. Do they ever get tired of following Draco when he never even speaks to them? I would feel horribly excluded if I were in their place.

The doors of the Great Hall were open when they arrived. The Hall was not full yet for it was still relatively early. The students at the tables were stuffing their faces with toast, pumpkin juice, eggs, bacon, and different fruits.

Winter, Pansy, and Draco sat at the end of the Slytherin Table, furthest away from the Head Table and closest to the exit. As the Great Hall began filling up, the three Slytherins made small talk as they ate.

At one point, Winter saw Harry and Ron entering the Hall, yawning and rubbing their eyes sleepily. She smiled with gentle amusement as she watched them drowsily stabbing their eggs and drinking their pumpkin juice.

Suddenly, Ron looked up and caught Winter staring at them from across the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Tables.

Winter's immediate reaction would be to look away, but she decided against that. Instead she held his gaze and waved at him friendlily. Perhaps if she was pleasant enough, the Gryffindors and Slytherins wouldn't be such bitter rivals.

From all the way across the Great Hall, Winter could see Ron smiling dreamily with a crimson blush on his freckled face. In his trance, he accidentally spilled a cup of pumpkin juice all over his front side, leaving a large blotch of orange on his jumper.

Winter's eyes widened in shock when she saw this, but Ron didn't even seem to notice the pumpkin juice on his shirt. He sighed with content, waving absent‐ mindedly at the Slytherin girl.

Harry nudged Ron, probably asking the ginger what he was doing smiling like a lunatic at the Slytherin Table.

Feeling that she must have greatly embarrassed the red haired Gryffindor, Winter turned back to her own Housemates, only to find Draco watching her strangely. "What were you doing?" he asked.

"Huh?" the Slytherin girl was confused for a moment at his question. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure that the Gryffindors weren't still paying attention to them. "Uh, well... I was..."

Pansy sneered at Ron and Harry before turning back to the conversation. "You don't fancy them, do you? I must say, Winter, you have horrible taste." She shook her head disapprovingly and went back to her plate of buttered toast.

"What? No! No, that's not it," the Winter answered nervously. She hastily began eating her breakfast, doing her best to look innocent. "I don't fancy them, Pansy. But..." she hesitated before continuing. "Would it not be wonderful to be friends with Harry Potter? And Ron seems like a very kind person."

"I'll admit that Potter wouldn't be bad," replied Draco, stressing the Pot syllable in Harry's last name to make it seem like an insult.

A part of Winter was in awe at how effortlessly Draco could twist a word to make it sound offensive. It wasn't a good talent, she thought, but still very impressive.

"It's really a pity that he didn't get sorted into Slytherin," the blonde Slytherin continued. "But the Weasel? You don't want to go around making friends with the wrong sort, Winter. I know you haven't had much contact with other pure‐blood families while being stuck here at Hogwarts every day. You'll soon find that some wizarding families are much better than others. Just compare me and the Weasel, we're living proof."

Winter frowned at Draco, the rich Malfoy heir with his hair neatly slicked back, wearing new robes, and carrying a rather regal aura. Then she glanced at Ron who was trying in vain to wipe the pumpkin juice off of his jumper. The ginger's hair wasn't nearly as neat as Draco's, but it was a lot better that Harry's. His robes were worn and carelessly thrown on, and his aura was most definitely not anywhere near as imperial as the Slytherin's.

With a disappointed chill, Winter realized that Draco was right. The Slytherin boy had a powerful family which could help her if she ever gets in a bind with money or the government. Draco was also taught to have poise and dignity by his high‐class mother and father, which Winter respected over many things.

There's nothing, however, that the Ron or his family could do to help Winter if the girl should ever need assistance. In fact, they would most likely drag her down with them. Like Draco had said, they could barely support their own family of seven (nine including the two eldest sons of Mrs. Weasley who didn't live with their mother anymore). It was truly a bit saddening, Winter thought, but it wouldn't be safe to get friendly with Ron.

She decided that she'd best just keep her nose out of the Gryffindors' business and stay within Draco and Pansy's protective circle.

After breakfast, the trio was forced to separate; Draco went to the greenhouses for Herbology while Winter and Pansy hurried to Charms with Professor Flitwick.

In classroom 2E, there were three long tables, each seating fifteen to twenty people. Stacks of books formed an unstable staircase to the tall teacher's podium at the front of the hall.

Professor Flitwick was a short little man with a bushy white beard and a pair of round glasses. He was the head of Ravenclaw which was one of the reasons why Winter had wanted to be sorted into said house.

Surprising enough, Harry and Ron were also in that class.

As Flitwick called out the names of all the students on his roster, Winter noticed him gasp in delight when he got to "Potter". The little professor let out an excited squeak before toppling off of the stack of textbooks he stood on.

Charms lesson was quite slow and choppy that day since Professor Flitwick was absolutely enchanted to have the Boy‐Who‐Lived sitting in his lecture hall.

The bell rang after almost two hours, ending the class which had slowly turned into a Harry‐Potter Fan Club as most of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the room were also fascinated by Harry's lightning bolt scar.

Winter and her Housemates had sat in awkward silence. Someone must have informed them that Gryffindors and Slytherins weren't supposed to get along, Winter suspected. Otherwise, what else would keep them away from Harry Potter? In order to not attract attention among the other snakes, the girl had decided that joining the Harry‐Potter Fan Club wouldn't be a good idea.

Winter followed Pansy to their next class, Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. The classroom was near the large courtyard on the northwestern side of Hogwarts castle.

Draco caught up with them as they made their way there. He didn't look very happy with little specks of dirt on his pale face and formerly clean robes. Having just endured an hour and a half of Herbology, the boy wasn't in a bright mood.

Upon entering McGonagall's room, Winter saw that it had a high ceiling with golden rays of sunlight streaming in through large window slits around the area. There were four rows of three long desks. Each desk had enough space for four students.

McGonagall was sitting at the front of the room behind her writing table, looking a bit displeased that Winter, Pansy, and Draco happened to be the first to get to her class. But she decided not to say anything as the three Slytherins cautiously sat down together at a desk at the very back of the room, far away from the professor.

Winter avoided eye contact with the head of Gryffindor House and calmly slid her copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration out from her book bag, setting it quietly on top of her portion of the desk.

Crabbe and Goyle also entered the room then, and McGonagall gave them a harsh look as they lumbered loudly across the chamber to sit at table that was adjacent to Winter's.

A few other Slytherins came in, talking and smiling with their friends. As soon as they stepped into the room, they quickly lowered their voices at the sight of the Transfiguration teacher. Realizing that they had just entered Gryffindor territory, the Slytherins murmured to each other suspiciously, as they too found a seat far away from the professor's desk.

There were also a couple of poor Hufflepuffs who were greatly outnumbered by the Slytherins and Ravenclaws who had filled up most of the seats by now.

At last, a large mob of Gryffindors arrived, occupying the remaining empty chairs at the front of the room. And again, Harry and Ron showed up accompanied by Hermione this time.

Winter could see the back of Harry and Ron's heads from her seat a couple of rows behind them. And Hermione sat up straight at the front, smiling expectantly at McGonagall.

Winter wondered if the Gryffindors were frightened at all about being so close to the Transfiguration teacher. Frankly, the Slytherin girl was a bit scared of the old (but stern) woman.

"Transfiguration," McGonagall announced, silencing the room with her cross voice. "is some of the most dangerous and complex magic you will learn at Hogwarts." She scanned the students with sharp, alert eyes as if they'd all done something wrong. "I will not tolerate any messing around. Anyone who chooses to behave like a babbling, bumbling baboon will leave and never come back."

Pansy rolled her eyes at McGonagall's choice of words.

"You have been warned," the Transfiguration teacher finished strictly. She then waved her wand at her desk.

The students all leaned forward in awe to see the desk morph smoothly into a hairy, pink pig. At this point, Winter almost regretted sitting in the very back of the room as she did not get a good view of the demonstration before McGonagall turned the pig back into the writing desk.

There were murmurs of great excitement as people began fantasizing about doing what the teacher had done. However, they soon discovered that they were nowhere near that level and that it would be a long time before they could transform furniture into animals.

McGonagall started them out with a very large amount of complex notes. After an hour, Winter's fingers were cramped, and she had taken up over three feet of parchment with her small, neat handwriting.

Then, the professor passes out a single Muggle match to every student, "You will attempt to transform these into needles," she instructed.

All the students pulled out their wands and began their first task.

Winter spent thirty minutes concentrating until her eyes crossed and her ears popped. Pointing her sycamore wand at the innocent match for the hundredth time in that lesson, she willed the little piece of wood to morph into a shiny, thin needle.

Nothing happened.

Winter let out a breath of frustration and glowered helplessly at her match. She turned to observe Draco and Pansy's progress.

Neither of her friends has managed to make any change yet. Draco's eyebrows were furrowed in deep focus as he glared down at his target. Winter could tell that Pansy was getting agitated as well when her match did nothing interesting either.

_Would it be too much of a bother to ask Professor McGonagall for help?_ Winter shook her head at this. _No, she already thinks that Professor Dumbledore spoils me. There's no way she would help me even if I asked. _Winter could imagine the Transfiguration teacher's reply, "_Try harder, Winter, Professor Dumbledore won't always be there to spoon‐feed you. It's best that you take care of things on your own from now on._"

Winter bit her bottom lip. As she was about to try again with her objective, there was a loud shriek of surprise at the front of the hall, breaking the silence that had occupied the room before.

Everyone looked up from their matches, all concentration shattering.

Hermione Granger was holding up her newly transfigured needle for all to see.

_How in Merlin's beard...?_ Winter shook her head in disbelief. How did Muggle‐ born Hermione Granger succeed so quickly? If anyone managed it first, it should have been one of the Slytherins like Draco or Pansy who have nothing but magical blood coursing through their veins. Or one of the Ravenclaws who are supposed to be intelligent and have great focus. Or even Winter herself who had observed McGonagall and Dumbledore's magic for almost a decade.

Most students' jaws dropped open a little, including Winter's, at the tiny needle in Hermione's fingers. Draco simply sneered, muttering something about beginner's luck.

McGonagall was very impressed indeed. She took the needle for inspection and showed everyone how the match had turned silver and pointy. Then she gave Hermione a rare smile of approval.

At the end of the class, no one else had yet been able to make any changes to their matches. Hermione skipped out of the room and to the Great Hall with much pride. Seeing that the great, almighty Harry Potter also could not transform a match into a needle made Winter feel a bit better about failing her first task in McGonagall's class.

Lunch was served after Transfiguration which was a good thing as Winter was very hungry after straining every brain cell she had, trying to get that bloody match to do something.

Whilst they ate, the daily mail came in the form of dozens of owls. The Great Hall was filled with the nocturnal birds carrying letters and cards from fellow students and packages of sweets from home.

Winter raised an eyebrow curiously when Draco received a parcel wrapped in expensive silver paper. There were candies of all smells, tastes, brands, and shapes inside the package. Winter guessed that Draco's rich mum and dad must send him things like this every day.

Across the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor table, there was commotion as the boy named Neville also got something special from home.

It was a large glass ball with white smoke inside. "A Remembrall!" Neville exclaimed loud enough so that even some of the Slytherins and Winter turned to get a good look at it. The boy enthusiastically explained to his Housemates about the Remembrall and how useful it was.

At this time, Huntington had finally come to visit Winter again, tearing the girl's attention away from Neville's new toy. The wolf sat himself beside the Slytherin girl and sniffed Draco's sweets with much interest.

Winter fed him a slice of ham to make the wolf leave her friend's package alone. She was happy to see that Huntington had decided to accompany her to her next class which was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Winter felt a swell of annoyance when she saw that Hermione was also in that class, along with Harry and Ron. Huntington looked like he wanted to greet them, but Winter did not allow it.

Most of the first years were really excited about learning how to defend against Dark wizards, but Quirrell's class was, if anything, a joke.

A repulsive stench of garlic hit Winter like a punch in the face as she and her friends arrived at Quirrell's lecture hall. Huntington stubbornly refused to enter the room because of the disgusting odor. Winter and her friends saw the source of the smell very quickly.

Dozens of strings of garlic were hanging from all corners of the chamber. When Winter asked Quirrell what they were for, the professor replied, "Garlic wards off the vampires. They are essential for the well‐being of all Hogwarts students."

Quirrell was extremely jumpy during his lesson. His movements were jerky, like a bird's, and in the end, none of the students in his class learned a thing about how to defend against the Dark Arts.

A wonderful two hours of Winter's life was wasted, sitting in Quirrell's room and listening to him rant about the weather, whilst he was supposed to be telling his students how exactly he defeated those zombies in Africa.

The last class of Winter's day was History of Magic with a ghost called Professor Binns. It was the most boring subject as it had nothing to do with waving wands or casting spells. All the students did was scribble down dates and names, while Binns lectured about Emiticthe the Evil and Uric the Oddball.

At dinner, Winter was very sleepy from History of Magic class, and almost allowed her face to drop into a large bowl of soup‐ but Pansy shook her awake just in time.

She had only gone through half of her classes, Winter reminded herself as she and Pansy went back to their dorm that night. Tomorrow, she would have to go to Flying, Potions, Astronomy, and Herbology.

Whilst her roommates drew their curtains around their beds, Winter kept her lamp on and wrote in her diary.

* * *

_A/N: Here's another chapter for you all! Again, this is still the work of ThePeacockFeather, and I shall inform you when a chapter is my original writing. Thanks for reading, and drop a review if you want :D_


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